Neha Sharma

It's Mine, Not Yours

Paradise, about to get lost,

Artisans losing sheen,

Intrusion ad invasion,

Did they ask the folk?

Felons barging into the territory,

Annihilating whatever coming their way,

Trampling over the agreed upon,

Deteriorating the beautiful vistas.

Shitty personas plundering the dell,

Screeching, “It’s mine, not yours.”

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Sparks Of Despondence

Obstreperous predicaments,

Mayhem and fiasco,

Ballyhoo and fracas all around,

Came he, attired in black,

And came along with him, jinx,

Jocund folk and later macabre,

Mob bound in obfuscation,

As to what happened?

Oh! See there, muttered one,

Bin exploded and deafening silence,

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